


Lost Rhapsody

by DarkMignonette



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Brotherly Love, Dominate Female, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Drama, First Love, Fluff, Het, Interracial Relationship, Pining, Rating: M, awkward virgins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMignonette/pseuds/DarkMignonette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He loved her alien beauty, his warrior of the earth. Against his better judgement, Kili follows the red-haired elf into the dark sanctuary of Mirkwood. Confessions under the oaks. (Kiliel).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forest

_“…Stony limits cannot hold love out,  
And what love can do, that dares love attempt.”_  


 

Her presence, the lines of her angular face colored fair with rosy cheeks, sent a tangle of pleasant shivers through his limbs, a wholly new experience that made him question his own sanity. Had the maiden with the sometimes coy, sometimes fierce expressions cast some form of elven magick upon his mind? Did creatures such as her possess such powers? Perhaps. His typical reaction would have been rage and rebellion that accompanied the thousands of generations of dwarf blood pumping through his veins, traits of the line of Durin, strong even if the family line itself had weakened over the years in these dark times.  


Kíli felt no anarchy. A quick flash of a smile from the red haired beauty with the pointy ears at the end of the table. More lazy warmth in his heart. The recklessness in his nature surfaced when he grinned back at Tauriel of Mirkwood in front of all his kin, his gaze lingering in her direction even after she had turned away; enamored of her grace as if she were the Nauglamir itself.

Even by the dim fires of the Erebor dinner hall, her hair glinted in the shadows like a copper vein in stone.

Fili bumped his brother's elbow. “Could you be any more obvious?”

Kíli hid his smile of embarrassment behind a mug of dark ale. He let the rich potent taste of amber wash away his enchantment, if only for a moment.  


**xxx**

  


“This cannot be, my Prince.”

She sat perched atop a stone, underneath the near black leaves of Mirkwood, or Greenwood the Great as she sometimes called the forest, an old name that bore little resemblance to the unending mesh of trees, pale sickly beech and oak trees with trunks mammoth in size and probably older than Kíli grandfather. Clusters of ivy swarmed around rocks and raced up trunks in a million different patterns. Kíli crushed a patch of fluorescent lichen under his boot.

Diluted sunlight from the overhead trees cast muted golden specks onto Tauriels face and torso, her simple dark green and brown leather clothes mimicking the palette of the forest. From Kíli's peripheral vision, if he looked at her from the sides of his eyes, she was not there, just another forest shadow. With her soundless footfalls she could easily vanish and abandon him to the angry forest. No place for a dwarf. The thought raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

“I know it seems unnatural to the others,” he said, giving her a small smile, though her words stung him. He watched her pop wild berries into her mouth one at a time. The juices stained the center of her lips maroon, shiny and wet like blood. Part of him wanted to taste the mysterious crushed berry from the soft skin of her mouth, even if it were poison, _aconitum_ to a dwarf, maybe.

She sometimes dipped her arrow tips in a milky colored sap collected from a stinky plant on the forest floor. One shot from a toxic arrow and her goblin enemies dropped to their backs in convulsions as if caught in fits of madness. Kíli had loved her even more in that moment. The deadly swiftness of her wrath had kindled desire in his loins.

Patches of dirt covered her pale skin. She was no polished princess in chambers of jewels and silk pillows. She dwelt in the land of green shadow, her perfume the sweet forest musk, the ancient mossy rocks her throne. “Handsome heir of Durin, our lives are too different,” she murmured, the sweetness of her tone contrasting with the skinned rabbits hung on her belt. Yet for all the world she sounded like any other forlorn maiden. “The gap between our lives is wider and deeper than the ancient seas to Valinor.”

Kíli hid his confusion. He didn't know her elvish legends. “I am no sea man,” he said, staring up into her eyes from his position on the damp earth. “But I will cross any sea for you, my lady.”

His heart hammered in his chest. He sounded naïve and young, even to his own ears. But was she not youthful also, in the terms of her people? He meant every word. Every damn word.

The warmth of her smile reached her eyes. She glanced down at her hands in a quick moment of bashfulness, and then met his searching gaze. Ye gods, her beauty stunned him. Her high cheekbones, the feline shape of her eyes, even her slight upturned nose contributed to the artwork that was Tauriel, child of a different god than Aulë whose name he did not know. “And I you, Kíli ...” she bit her bottom lip. “I would retrieve you from the fires of Mordor itself. But this situation...well, it could end up very messy.”

Her words shook him to his very core. A sense of euphoria flooded his brain and he resisted the violent urge to kiss her, to sample the wild taste of Mirkwood from her mouth. The sickly sweet scent of the forest was overwhelming, digging in his pores. He rubbed a hand against the grain of stubble on his face.

A gossamer spiderweb thread dangled over his head with beads of moisture like tiny crystals strung on a line. The creator was absent, tiny and hidden under a leaf somewhere.

“I prefer the title Captain,” she said with a smile and one lifted red brow. “If that's possible for you, I'm not a 'lady' in the former sense, and you are a prince.”

He beamed up at her, his heart still bloated with happiness. Even if they hadn't thought out the details, even though his kin and her people hated it, even if she didn't truly love him as a male loves a female yet(as a dwarf man loves his dwarf wife? Or an elf man and an elf maid? Man and woman?) he was satisfied with her confession. He hadn't been mocked or turned away.

Kíli himself was still swamped with confusion, he had never bothered with love and marriage before in all his life. It would be an ordeal to take counsel with his brother on the subject. Struck by love with an elf maiden! His mother would have hysterics. Kíli was too young yet, expected to marry well for his noble line if he married at all. He could take lovers as he wanted, but of course not with an enemy race whose bad blood traced back thousands of years.

“May I kiss the Captain's hand?” he grinned.

Tauriel looked taken aback. Kíli's heart sank. He wished he could suck those words back into his mouth. “Forgive me, I-”

She let out a rather girlish laugh, a twinkling sound like wind chimes in a subtle breeze. Sliding down the stone onto a lower crevice, she seated herself onto a patch of moss, her face at eye level with him, close enough for flyaway strands of her hair to tickle his arms. She laid their catch of game down by her side by the twine lead and held out her hand. A flash of a naked wrist in the gloomy light.

Of course Kíli noticed her long sinuous fingers, her pale pointed nails and the callouses underneath. Blue veins like tiny trees under the top layer of skin.

He felt her eyes on him as he grasped her hand in his own. Her flesh reminded him of a gardenia flower caught in his grip, his hands rough and bulky compared to her lissome elegance. Their combined colors, her fair complexion from the shade of the forest, his tanned skin from the field of battle, teased his senses. He closed his eyes.

At first he mistook the softness of her hand for a real petal, with it's rivers of delicate indentions, her skin redolent of wet earth and honeysuckle. He loved the slight give of her flesh against his lips. Somewhere in the tree tops a wren sang three notes over and over. Kili realized he should withdraw, if he pushed her too far this forest goddess would discard him and his silly infatuations.

He let her hand go. His arms dropped to his sides, useless. “Thank you, my lady Captain. _Mukhuh Mahal udnîn zu ra sanzigil umkhûh zu._ ”

Maybe he only cared for her as an artist cares for a masterpiece. Dwarves appreciated finely crafted beauty, and Tauriel had been someone's personal creation, and their best one, as far as he could tell.

He gazed into her face, and the summer light of her eyes vanished, replaced by a mask of indifference. Kíli understood her sudden change of demeanor. She was withdrawing from him, from these dangerous feelings.

Kíli's mouth went dry, and he swallowed a painful lump in his throat. “I understand,” he whispered. “But know this. You...”

He felt so small and so stupid thanks to these poetic fits. Her green eyes punctured holes in his heart, like tiny wounds from an arrow storm.

“Forgive me, you are my first love.”

Before his brain registered her sudden movement, she captured his face in those same soft hands and his eyes snapped shut. He smelled wild sweet grass and trampled leaves. Tauriel crushed her mouth against his, a single hard kiss that left his brain spinning, a sense of wooziness not unlike his first venture into the forest nearly a year ago. He thrust his hands deep into the silk tangle of her hair and held the back of her head, thumbs brushing against the peaked tips of her ears. He thought he heard a chorus of a thousand wrens over their heads.

The kiss lit the simmers of desire in his blood. He licked the remnants of berry juice from her lips, the bitter taste coated on her tongue. She pulled him closer into an embrace, wedging herself between him and the rigid mound of rock behind her, her breasts a cushion against his equally hard chest. Her kisses tore all restraint away from him and he yearned to ravish everything on her immortal body, from her lips down to her toes, he cared not. Every inch of her freckled skin was sacred.

Mad as it sounded, she could make love to him in this cursed wood and then strike him down with her arrows, and he would die a happy dwarf all the same.

Kíli had not realized the sign of his enthusiasm for the idea had been pressing against her thigh. Still holding his face, she broke the lip contact and planted soft kisses all over his jaw. “We are rushing ourselves,” she said between breaths, “cool yourself down, my hot headed prince.”

The birdsong quieted, and the forest watched their tryst with nature's same solid indifference.

Breathing hard, he pressed his head against her neck, smiling like a man struck dumb, and drunk off the elixir of her kisses. He felt as if someone had flung him skywards into the stars. Maybe Tauriel had enchanted him! He cared not. He loved the sound of the rapid pulse in her neck.

Tauriel sighed; but he felt her happiness on the air and he inhaled it into his lungs. “Eru have mercy on us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello (any) dear readers! This is my first try at Hobbit/Lord of the Rings fanfiction, and it has been years since I've written anything, so please be gentle, of course I appreciate constructive criticism though. I tried my best at accuracy for Tolkien's mythos, but forgive me if anything is off point. I have read lotr, the Hobbit(durr), and the Silmarillion, so hopefully it's not horrible. I plan on writing more chapters to this. I may need emotional support when the third movie comes out, so please keep writing those Kiliel fics! Also my first fic posted on this great new site, woot!
> 
> With love, thanks for reading!  
> xoxo, DarkMignonette


	2. Chamber

  
_“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,_   
_My love as deep; the more I give to thee,_   
_The more I have, for both are infinite.”_   


Kíli inhaled and exhaled slowly while he stared at the carved chamber door as if it were a boulder blocking his path.

Kíli's dwarven courage had been tested well enough in his life, from the perils of the wilds to the wreckage of the newly christened bloodbath called 'The Battle of the Five Armies', from which he had earned himself a slight limp and a nasty scar around his collarbone.

But this damn door and the room beyond it, well, the thought of crossing that threshold intimidated him, thanks to the she-elf on the other side. Imagine that, a dwarf scared by one of the pointy eared folk!

He held his breath and rapped on the door. The knock reverberated off the collage of geometric shapes of the Erebor hallway, sounding more obnoxious than he had meant it. Elves were a quiet race, courteous and all that. He had forgotten.

Kíli's nerves jumped in his skin when a unfamiliar face greeted him at the door. A young girl with blue eyes and fair hair so light she looked as if she had been stuck by lightening. She gave him a small cool smile. “Greetings,” she said. This stranger hovered in the doorway, a strong stubborn attitude housed inside her fragile stature. Kíli glimpsed a flash of red further beyond the room.

“It is alright Magolwen,” a lush female voice drifted in from the back of the chamber. The familiar tone kick-started Kíli's frenzied heartbeat. “Let him in please.”

The little elf girl moved aside and Kíli entered the royal guest quarters with hesitant footfalls. Across a mountain of pillows and cushioned blankets embroidered with Khuzdul runes and scenes of battle, Tauriel reclined with the ease of a great feline, her long legs curved across the bed, her ivory colored dress tight around her breasts. Kíli swallowed the lump in his throat. He had never seen her so at ease. She lounged on the mahogany four poster bed with a carelessness unlike his familiar Captain of the Guard, her red hair splayed down her back, matching the color of the stitched blood on the sheets. Tiny seams of fake gore underneath the swell of her hips.

His manhood responded to this vision, Tauriel's body uncoiled for him like an evil mortal queen of old, waiting to drag lines of kings down with her into decadence.

Kili wiped his sweaty palms on his trouser pockets, the unopened letter in one hand damp from his fingerprints. “M-my lady I...” He smiled, laughing at his own ineptitude. An heir of Durin struck dumb by an elf lounging all over dwarven sheets, it was odd. He hoped he never had to face the wrath of his ancestors. He laughed again. “Apologies, I have a letter for you from your Elven King.”

The vision of the temptress faltered with the sweetness in her smile. “It's probably just routine checkup on the rebuilding process from this end,” she said. “I thank you.”

They both knew he hadn't needed to visit the guest quarters for something as trivial as a letter delivery. The thought floated unsaid in the silent air as Kíli 's mind raced for the right words, praying to Mahal for guidance.

Crisp morning light illuminated the stone room from a small open window, like a square piece of blue sky hung on the wall. The mountain air mingled with the musk of sage burning on the endtable in a forgotten corner of the room.

“Forgive my current state,” Tauriel murmured, eyes downcast as she tossed the letter onto the nearest table. “I feel unwell. Balin assured me there was not much work to be done for me today. I promise you I am not normally someone who lays about like a pampered fool.”

“No! No you deserve a break, you have done nothing but work since you arrived here.” He stepped closer to the edge of the bed. A part of Kíli felt guilty about his devious thoughts, but the rest of him wanted nothing more than to roll around with her in that bed until nightfall. He imagined the ecstasy of her body above him, the ripples in the flesh of her thighs as she bounced and took pleasure from him, furred hides and dwarf runes beneath her ankles.

He felt his cheeks burn red and he averted his gaze. “Do you need medicine?” he asked. “You won't be ill here long, you have my word.”

Her generous smile incited a frenzy of emotion in his chest. “Well,” she said, “it's not something others can fix. If I may confess, it is sickness of the mental sort. Sickness of the heart.” She sighed.

“Oh.” Kíli inched closer to her bedside, standing at the invisible boundary of what would be considered acceptable. He noticed the random splay of barely there freckles across her throat. “I fear I can't help you. I may only aggravate your nerves further, which isn't my intention but...” He squared his shoulders.

Tauriel gazed at him with an expression of curiosity on her face, hands folded in her lap, but she didn't press him. If anything her demeanor of patience soothed his rattled nerves. He loved basking in her aura of kindness on the days she played the healer instead of the slayer.

“Actually,” he mumbled, “I was wondering if I could speak with you in private?”

Tauriel nodded with a slight tilt of her head. “Maegolwin, I wish to speak with Prince Kili alone for a moment. I'm fine, I promise.”

The other elf lurked in the background, all blonde hair and blue lace, eyeing the dwarf intruder with disdain, reminding Kili of a mix between a hawk and a canary. Her eyes widened at Tauriel's words. She mumbled something in elvish under her breath and Tauriel responded with that same bizarre language, which always sounded both wispy and throaty to Kíli's ears, though he liked the sensuous note in Tauriel's voice when she spoke it.

The angry elf girl retreated to the other side of the door, and Kíli laughed, shaking his head. “Is that your blonde elf friend's little sister?”

“No,” Tauriel grinned. “Why?”

Kíli shrugged, hiding his laughter. He loved to be the center of her amusement. He knew she would never laugh at him in an unkind manner. “Elves all look alike.”

She leaned back and gave him a wry expression, though the smile remained wide on her face. He plopped down beside her on the bed, careful not to accidentally brush against the bare skin of her leg. “Not you, of course. You're different. Your hair, for starters.”

She nodded. “It is an unusual color, in the terms my people, yes.”

“It's beautiful.”

The words slipped from his mouth before the thought had registered in his mind. The entire atmosphere of the room shifted as if the high air of the mountain had been replaced by the humidity of the sea. Tauriel's silence confirmed his mistake. His face burned with embarrassment. His brother never had this many slip ups with women.

She sat upright beside him on the bed, her thigh pressed against him and warm against his leg, all formalities gone and guarded behind the guarded door. “Thank you,” she whispered, the emotion beneath the surface of her gaze stirring pleasurable chaos deep within himself. He knew in that moment he would yield to her forever. He would bend to her like the male spider bends to the will of his black widow queen, an unbroken dance of destruction and love combined, over and over into eternity.

He yearned to reveal the depths of his affections for her, but he feared the words would come out jumbled and clumsy.

“I bothered my lady Captain this morning for this.”

Kili pulled the hidden trinket out from his pocket. The luster of crystals and precious metal glinted under the sunlight like captured bundles of fire. Arcs of silver formed intricate patterns and flowed, sleek and rich, into a curved shape of a necklace, embellished with peridot and emeralds.

“Please accept this as a gift. A sign of my friendship.”

Tauriel stared at him, her mouth open. For once he had caught her by surprise. “I can't! Kíli, such a treasure is priceless! I...”

Grinning, he swept the silk mass of her hair over one shoulder and clasped the necklace around her throat, relishing the intimacy of the gesture. He loved how the jewelry, hand crafted by a dwarf long ago in ages past, rested against her porcelain skin. He suppressed the urge to hail kisses against the vulnerable flesh under her jaw, along her collarbone.

She sat stiff and frozen in place. She gingerly rubbed a finger across the smooth surface of the emerald, poised inches above the contours of her chest. “I-I can't Kíli...” she stammered. “I can't accept this. I don't deserve such a treasure. I have no royal blood. You're too generous!”

He flopped back onto the bed, smiling. “Don't trouble yourself over it. I saw it and I thought of you. I am owed my share of the Worm's stolen hoard. I can do as I please with it.”

She reclined next to him, one head rested on her elbow, the other still pressed against the gems on her neck. Kíli stifled the sudden vision of her clad in nothing but that necklace, dark nipples peeking through the shroud of hair loose and braid less down her front.

Tauriel leaned close enough for Kíli to see the tiny flecks of yellow in her irises. She held him with her gaze. “I am grateful,” she whispered, “it's beautiful but you know I don't need such treasures to appreciate your companionship.”

As Kíli studied her long eyelashes he wondered how much those green eyes had witnessed in her six hundred years. His head spun from the thought of an endless life. This virgin goddess of the hunt would live to experience the true meaning of forever.

He grinned and toyed with the tips of her hair. “I know. All the more reason to give it to you.”

He froze when she reached out and caressed the side of his face, fingers pressed into the stubble of his jawline. His heart throbbed madly in his chest. Her lips moved into a lazy smile as she grazed her fingertips across the scruff on his face. “I still say you should not bestow upon me such gifts. But I am grateful. The gems are beautiful and the silver shines like a thousand stars.”

He leaned his head into the palm of her hand and closed his eyes. His heart had never felt so lightweight in all his life. “Not silver,” he smiled. “Mithril.”

Tauriel gasped, but before she could protest he covered her mouth with his hand, only her state of shock allowing such a gesture. “Tauriel, it's yours. I know you can't wear it in front of other eyes, but allow me to see you in it every once in awhile.” He smiled, the faintest hint of bitterness on his tongue. “When I am long gone you can look upon it and remember a humble dwarf.”

_Who loved you._

Tauriel held Kíli's wrist, a small movement that made him feel more masculine than any battlefield conquest ever had, her slender fingers around his thicker wrist. Unknown emotion clouded her eyes as she gathered Kíli into an embrace, her hands finding the nape of his neck through his dark hair, his hands curved around the small of her back through the featherweight material of her dress. The scent of earth and sage encompassed his senses as if they were again under the ancient Mirkwood trees.

His smile vanished but not the warmth in his heart as it pulsed in time with Tauriel's heartbeat. Her body relaxed under his weight, his hips against her abdomen, her hair spilled out behind her head in a fan of silken waves.

She peered at him with heavy lidded eyes. “This is unwise,” she murmured, though she lacked the conviction in her voice. “I don't wish to bring you trouble.”

He couldn't pry his gaze away from her lips. “Please, give me all your trouble and more.”

His blistering emotion for the elf-maiden, subdued under his body, emboldened him and he dipped his head down and kissed her like he had done in his deepest dreams. She closed her eyes and responded with achingly slow movements that kindled his desire to take her there on the soft cotton sheets; slide into her body with a single stroke and make her toes curl.

She whimpered through the kiss when he brushed his thumb against the tip of her pointed ear.

Her tongue slid in and out of his mouth as any thought of his kin melted away, his lovesickness reaching new heights. The bulge in his trousers throbbed painfully. He paid no attention to his fate and whether it would conclude in ecstasy or heartbreak, he only wondered if Tauriel had any freckles on her chest, any on her buttocks or between her legs. He wondered what shade decorated the tips of her breasts.

He realized with a jolt that his recklessness had ensnared him in a complicated situation. No doubt, the elf-maiden whose mouth bit and kissed his neck was his One. The pain of her teeth on his flesh tore a moan from his lips.

Someone banged a fist on the other side of the door. The pair sprang apart, anger etched on Kíli's face. Tauriel's hands trembled as she unclasped the necklace and stuffed it into her pillow.

Maegolwin screeched on the other side of the door. “No! You can't just barge into my lady's-”

“Kíli?” The stranger's voice echoed through the door. “Are you in there?” 

Fili.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think if I had lots of extra cash I would get permanent Elf ears. But I wouldn't want people staring all the time, so if someone asked I would lie and say I was born with it & they were being insensitive lol. 
> 
> Anyway I hope everyone liked this chapter, I'm a bit shy with posting these things, I'm no real writer, but if someone enjoys it then it's worth putting myself out there. And I am crazy for this pairing at the moment haha. If you have a Kiliel idea please write it!! ❤ Also, as I think Mithril is only in Moria, it might be a stretch to find it in Erebor, but who knows. Thanks for reading!  
> xoxoxo,  
> DarkMignonette )o(


	3. Mountain

_“True, I talk of dreams,  
Which are the children of an idle brain,  
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy...”_

Kíli's sense of lust deflated, replaced by a noxious mix of frustration tinged with fear. His hands trembled from the shock of the situation, having gone from pleasure to anxiety in seconds.

Tauriel's face seemed like a mask of cold stone. “The letter delivery. Nothing more.” Her warrior nature had taken over, protecting the tender heart hidden beneath her Elvish indifference. “All is well.”

He nodded and slipped through the door before his brother could peek around the doorframe. Kíli calmed himself and plastered a fake smile on his face, though he knew his older brother would sense his flustered state instantly. Fili knew him well.

Fili regarded him with a curious expression, his sandy blond hair thick on his head, the same fair color on his jaw and braided beside the corners of his mouth. Kíli and Fili resembled each other in face, but Fili's light features contrasted with Kili's dark brunette attributes, two opposites like comedy and tragedy masks.

Fili crossed his arms across his chest in a gesture that reminded Kíli of Thorin. A sharp pain pierced his heart at the thought of his uncle, and it only soured his mood further.

The forgotten Maegolwin darted into the room and slammed the door.

Fili scowled, though Kíli recognized the hint of amusement in his eyes. “What in Mahal's name are you doing in Tauriel's room?”

Fili had been one of the few who called Tauriel by name, instead of 'she-elf', or 'outsider', or worse curses like 'shirumund'. The phrase _'Nî ikrit fund_ ' followed her in whispers whenever she passed older dwarves in the dark Erebor hallways. His kin tolerated her presence at best. Kíli could only stand by and let his anger simmer in silence.

Kíli shrugged his shoulders in what he hoped to be a casual manner. “I brought the Captain her letter from the Elven king. The elf who delivered it this morning declared it very important.”

A deep crease formed between Fili's shaggy brows. “There are plenty of others who could have done that, you know.”

For a rare moment in his life, Kíli felt a surge of annoyance at his older brother. He knew Fili did not deserve his irritation, but he tired of the constant questions and the occasional dirty looks from his companions. He grew tired of lineages and battle and gold. Surely love reigned above material conquest, even his unusual fondness for an elf.

These thoughts dashed through his mind. “I only wanted proof that she received it,” he grumbled. “I put it in her hands myself.”

Fili frowned, aware of his younger brother's ill demeanor. “Well the less confusion the better I suppose,” he sighed. “I don't want to upset the fragile peace with our dear neighbors. Thranduil is one touchy bastard.”

Kíli nodded, a laugh escaping his lips. At the mention of the Mirkwood kingdom, his thoughts drifted back into Tauriel's embrace, her hungry mouth on his neck and the thick herbal aroma of incense embedded in her hair. His flesh tingled from the memory of her kisses.

Fili glanced down each end of the murky hallway, the beams of ancient dwarf architecture silent and immense, like stone giants holding the weight of the mountain at bay. “Brother...” Fili's tone softened, “I know Tauriel is good-hearted and fair, and your companion, but you can't linger in her chambers.”

Kíli avoided his brother's gaze. He studied the rigid patterns of carved stone ingrained in the walls. “I won't make a habit of it,” he mumbled. A sense of guilt seeped into his head, down his shoulders. He never lied to his brother. He hated it.

Fili stared at him, his gray eyes scanning Kíli's face. Kíli sweated under his scrutiny. Fili cleared his throat. “I know you don't want to hear this,” he said. “But some of our kin dislike your friendship. They find it odd. Honestly, I care not. With all this loss, if she eases the sadness in you than so be it. But there is talk of other things, and too much talk poisons a kingdom.”

Again, Kíli shrugged. “I understand,” he said. “But Tauriel and I are companions in battle, a bond formed through bloodshed, nothing more.”

Fili held the bridge of his nose between his fingers and let out a long sigh. Always the cautious one, their mother had said of Fili. “You fancy her though,” he whispered. “I can see it in your eyes. You can't deny me that fact.”

Kíli stared into Fili's face, his features mirrored in the others sculpted cheekbones and square jawline, but Fili resembled his uncle more in looks and countenance. Kíli resembled no one. No beard adorned his face, only dark stubble around his mouth and chin. “As you said, she is fair,” he murmured. “That is all. You have my word.”

The lies scorched his tongue. Before all else, he had loved his brother, and his own treachery felt as black as sin.

The tension drained from Fili's shoulders. “Alright. Forgive me, but I've been concerned about you, you grow more distant every day.” He laid a hand on Kíli's shoulder. “But such wounds take time to heal. Come, I need your opinion on some of our kin's recent squabbles. I know nothing of trade routes. Balin has pestered me about it for days.”

Kíli's mouth turned upwards into lackluster smile as he followed his brother down the dust packed hallway, guilt snapping at his heals and Tauriel's radiant skin on his mind.

**xxx**

“Where do Elves go when they die?”

Tauriel stared at him with raised eyebrows, and Kíli regretted the impulsiveness of his words once again.

Far from prying eyes, they sat huddled together amongst gray boulders on a forgotten ledge of the Stone Mountain, the shrill music of wild thrush and sparrow rebounding off crevices in the rock, the rustling of trees a backdrop of rhythm far below. Fili had indulged in too much ale and after supper Kíli led Tauriel out of the dwarf kingdom and onto the crest of Erebor itself. He knew his elf love deflated under the constant shadow and stone. If his body rose from the deep earth, than hers had formed from the limber shapes of trees, her spirit created from clusters of red poppy in the Mirkwood thickets.

The sun descended behind the hazy blue outline of the Gray mountains in the far distance. Streaks of orange and yellow dominated the sky, morphing the air into the god's own vision of fire. She had called the sun Arien, a name Kíli's accent had butchered, but the strange Elvish legends fascinated him. He would teach her his own Dwarven myths too, in time.

They sat side by side, their backs to the stone wall with her hand rested on his thigh. He clutched her hand in his own, her long fingers deceptively fragile beneath his calloused palms; he had witnessed her slice an orc's jugular with those same hands.

She smiled down at him, his head only inches higher than her shoulders from a sitting position. “Well,” she mused, “we all go to Valinor across the sea. The Undying lands.”

Kíli scowled in confusion. “But Elves can be killed, can't they?”

Her laughter danced around his skin. “Of course. But we still go to Valinor, to the Halls of Mandos. Or our restless spirits may wander across Middle Earth as ghosts, as the spirits of men often do. I have never witnessed any of these things myself, though.”

Kíli paused in thought, grazing his thumb in tiny circles across the back of her hand. “How does anyone get to...Valinor?”

“The path is only open to Elves who wish to make the journey home,” she said, a tinge of sadness in her voice. Kíli's heart ached for her, a shared sensation of bitterness. “Both my parents are there.”

Kíli peered off into the distance, her words ringing in his ears. His life had changed since the last time he had trekked across the Misty mountains with the rest of his kin. He had never been one to reflect on anything other than the adrenaline of the hunt or the dry taste of ale in the evening, but the terrible inconsistency of life suddenly shocked him. Himself and Fili had once been careless vagabonds lost in the the savage corners of the world.

As he gazed at the tiny specks of the mountain range on the horizon, the throes and joys of the past haunted him and in his anguish he wondered where Thorin's spirit wandered, if his uncle existed in the mysterious plains of Tauriel's Valinor, or in the wild plains where the memory of their adventure still lingered, where they all had once been happy.

Kíli gripped Tauriel's hand. “Will you go there too someday?”

She let out a shaky sigh. Her hair blazed crimson in the harsh light of the dying sun. “I suppose so. But hopefully not for a very long time.”

Kíli experienced a throb of pain in his chest. He peered down at their entwined hands, the invisible weight of time crushing his shoulders. He raised their locked fingers and kissed the ridges of her knuckles one by one.

Tauriel watched him with a blend of affection and melancholy behind her eyes. “What about Dwarves? Where do Dwarves go in death? I know nothing of such tales.”

He closed his eyes and leaned against her shoulder, flyaway locks of her hair tickling the side of his face, the rise and fall of her chest softening the pain in his heavy heart. Her presence healed him time and time again. “Fili would remember the legends more than me,” he said. “I never payed much attention.”

Tauriel grinned. “Imagine that.”

“I prefer adventure over old myth, thank you.” He cracked a small smile. “Some say we return to stone. Others tell of our own Halls of Mandos where we sleep until the end of the world.” He laughed under his breath.

His words cleared the smile from her face. He had not meant to trouble her with his dismal fairytales. “Forgive me,” he said. She regarded him with a serious expression, head titled to the side and her hands clenched in his grip. She urged him to continue wordlessly with her eyes.

Kíli watched as a raven landed on a rock face above their heads. “Those are merely the legends,” he smoothed his fingers across her palm, comforting himself more than her this time. “No one really knows. Our fallen kin have never returned to enlighten us one way or the other.”

The fresh wounds of grief struck him silent. How he wished for the sound of his uncle's voice, for his wise counsel in this dark age. If only he could speak with Thorin one more time.

The lone raven squawked and flew off towards the hazy ruins of Dale, nestled near the ghostly shimmer of the lake.

He hoped Tauriel disregarded the glaze of tears in his eyes as she peered at him beneath the hot glow of the setting sun. Tenderness softened her features. A snow scented wind from the high peaks fluttered her hair around her face, her fair skin framed by red waves. He hoped her beauty would endure throughout the ages, long after his bones had crumbled to dust.

She withdrew her hand from his grip. “I am no good with words,” she whispered, her green eyes deep with sorrow and kindness. “Come closer, my friend.”

He stiffened, unsure of her intentions and fearing a misstep on his part. He had embarrassed himself enough in her presence already. He leaned into her touch as she grasped his shoulders and moved him to a lower position, pulling his torso to the ground, his head cushioned in her lap by the softness of her dress. He loved the color of this particular garment, pale green like wild ginger leaves.

She shivered when he brushed his fingers across the skin of her leg. He never understood why a creature of such elegance expressed any interest in him, a dwarf whose entire existence was but a drop in the ocean of her lifetime; but he thirsted for her affection all the same.

Kíli delighted in the sight of her face above him, this fierce warrior with a secret tenderness. She smiled as she trailed her hands through his dark hair. “A'maelamin,” she whispered.

Their eyes locked for a moment and time slowed down. “Thatr-azbad, I would follow you across the sea.”

A sad smile eased across her face. She smoothed her fingers across his cheeks, the other hand tangled in his thick hair, her delicate touch on his scalp. “If your words are true, then we have been dealt a harsh destiny, my Naugrim prince,” she whispered, her voice intermingled with the mountain wind.

A tinge of pain squeezed his heart. “So be it then,” he smiled. “The line of Durin is no stranger to ill fate.”

Tauriel leaned down and pressed her lips against his, a softer kiss than the burst of passion they had shared in her chamber nights ago. Her hair enveloped him like a waterfall of blood. They moved their lips together in a slow cadence that stirred Kíli's fervor despite their tales of sorrow. Perched high atop Erebor, he cared nothing of fate, his mortality making the taste of her lips all the sweeter, the cool mountain air more potent as it chilled his skin. No more despair. He treasured the sound of her voice every moment, and would continue to do so every season until his youth drained away and he returned to stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter wasn't too depressing for anybody eheh. I also really like the forbidden love affair idea for some reason. lol. I appreciate every single one of you readers, and also anyone who leaves kudos! Before I made an account on here I lurked & read tons of Kiliel stuff myself and left kudos everywhere as a guest lol. 
> 
> Hopefully locations and everything are accurate. Also, I don't know if Tauriel, as a Silvan elf, would know of the Maiar in charge of the sun and moon. That sounds more like Vanyar or Noldor knowledge, but I'm not sure if the stories were passed down to other elves in Middle Earth or not. Sorry about the heavy language usage too, but I personally enjoy reading phrases in fics and reading the translation in the notes. That's just me though. But I am definitely no Tolkien language scholar(one day maybeee.)  
> Thanks for reading !!  
> xoxo,  
> DarkMignonette  
>   
>  **Translations**
> 
> (Khuzdul)   
> 'Nî ikrit fund: Never trust an elf.'   
> 'Shirumund: (Derogatory) Bald-face.'   
> 'Thatr-azbad: Star-lady.' (hopefully lol.)   
> (Sindarin)   
> 'A'maelamin: Beloved.'   
> 'Naugrim: Dwarf.'


	4. Battlefield

_"Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow,  
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.”_

**xxx  
xx  
x**

Pain. Pain pulsing through his tired limbs as he hacked at the never ending tide of goblin flesh and bristled warg fur, using a heavy dwarven axe that did not pierce as swiftly as his arrows nor maneuver like an extra limb as did his trusty bow; but it sliced through an orc's exposed face all the same.

Exhaustion thrummed though his arms and back. Kíli swung the weapon once, twice, three times into the nameless goblin's lacerated skin until the blade cleaved through bone. He whirled around and faced another enemy before the severed head hit the ground, forgotten and trampled underfoot by hundreds of soldiers. Elves and Men and Dwarves against the foul army, one side at war in the name of goodness and honor and gold, the other for chaos and the ruin of everything fair in all of Arda.

The sweetly sour stench of gore and blood mixed with the musky filth of thousands of goblin bodies packed close together, both alive and dead, blazing through the air in an invisible miasma that dried all saliva from Kíli's mouth. He beheld slain kin and decapitated men tossed about like mangled doll parts. He tore his gaze away from the mess of multi-colored fluids before bile rose up his stomach.

To think himself and Fili had once anticipated this violence, this crimson glory.

His brother shielded his back as they fought in a rotating circle of two, one guarding the other, a dance of duel axe blades. The roar of metal and screams and pandemonium drowned out Fili's voice, though Kíli strained to hear any pained cries. They were trapped in the worst of it. The mob drew back only to converge on them again, like fighting waves in a polluted ocean.

Something twisted in Kíli's gut and he felt rather than saw Thorin's clash with the pale orc. A crowd of foes had barricaded the brothers from their uncle.

A lightening bolt of fear struck Fili in that same instant and they both bulldozed through the bodies in their path and rushed to Thorin's side.

All movement slowed to milliseconds as if the heavy air had crushed time itself under its weight. Thorin's cry of rage echoed off shields and steel and thundered into the sky, his voice thick with decades worth of bottomless hate. He drove the brilliant white Orcrist into Azog's neck.

The brothers halted their shouts of triumph at the sight of Thorin's battered body, his limbs and face drenched maroon, his chain mail bright red and shiny with blood.

A second wave of adrenaline roared to life in Kíli's veins. The brothers gashed strips of dark liquid across the monstrous orc's legs, the tainted goblin blood as black as Kíli's wrath, his pain, his torment.

Azog's bellows of pain sounded miles away to Kíli's ears. More etched wounds into the gray flesh. More jagged skin under Kíli's blade. His beloved uncle sank to his knees within a cloud of dust. If only Kíli had arrows, he would snatch the orc's sight before they cast him into the dirt and Azog could enter the afterlife in darkness, only to be pitched into the darkness at the ends of the world, drifting forever in opaque oblivion.

Thorin's fierce spirit burned behind his blue eyes, victory alight in his expression despite the crimson layers on his face. The line of Durin had weathered the storm long enough to see two hated enemies fall within the same year. Death to the Worm and to the Defiler, at long last.

Azog smashed to the ground. Thorin had dealt the killing blow.

A horde of goblins descended upon Kíli and Fili in an angry swarm, their muck colored bodies infesting the dwarve's line of vision. Thorin's proud polished armor vanished behind a wall of spiked goblin helms and barbed spears.

Fili and Kíli shouted above the turmoil. _"Khayum Thane!"_

His brother's armor dug into Kíli's back as he hacked away at any sword or limb in his face, his own breath escaping his throat in ragged gasps. A blade pierced his shoulder. Another blunt force bruised the skin beneath his chain-mail. Overwhelmed.

A bitter laugh sounded from behind him. Fili's voice. “Too many!”

A pike struck at his shoulder and Kíli lurched sideways before the edge split his skin.

Agony seized his bad leg. Black spots flared in his vision. Kíli dropped down into the dust as his brother hollered his name, and Kíli suddenly wondered when they had all been cast into this false nightmare. Surely it was an illusion. Thorin was not lost among thousands of evil hands, and unholy misery was not spreading up his leg from that vile wound; Death was not panting cold breath down his spine.

He tried to rise but he had put too much weight on that right leg. A humorless cackle cracked his ears.

A fair face invaded his mind.

A spiked sword carved a hooked gash deep in his chest. The hurt from that damned reopened leg injury drowned out any other pain but he stared down at all the thick red liquid on his hands. It shimmered under the dingy sun like tiny garnets. Blood everywhere.

Two screams among goblin laughter. His brother at his side and a high pitched wail of rage before him.

Momentarily he thought his dying brain had conjured her face from his memories, but the goblin leeches fled from her like shadows chased by the sun. Her braided hair whipped behind her while she slit throats and jabbed at unguarded eyes.

Fili lifted him up by the undersides of his arms and Tauriel towered over them, her hands clenched around her curved elven blades. Kíli couldn't tell the difference between the specks of blood and the freckles on her cheeks. “Get up Kíli!” She glared at him with a tear stricken face. “Damn you, you must not die on me!”

He smiled through the fog of pain. His Goddess of Destruction. “ _Gin Melin_ ,” he said, gazing straight into her eyes. He had butchered the words but by her shocked expression he knew she had understood.

He had enough time to appreciate her flustered state and Fili's perplexed frown before he grabbed Tauriel's side and flung her to the ground. He tore out of Fili's grasp right as a gaping maw of teeth lunged at them. He drove his blade into it's jaw, praying for Aulë to grant him a last surge of strength. The warg let out an animal screech as Fili stabbed it through the spot above it's eyes. Saliva splashed Kíli's face, the beast's breath ripe with the acrid stench of slaughtered flesh.

The surprise faded away and Tauriel rose from the ground, the mask of stone restored to her expression. “Thank you.”

Tauriel wrapped her arm around his waist and half carried him, half dragged him along by her side, his brother doing the same on the opposite shoulder. Kíli gulped down a harsh metallic taste in his mouth. “We have to...have to find Thorin,” he muttered.

A wet sheen in Fili's eyes, but he remained silent.

Kíli's torso had been soaked crimson, and he thought he had leaked blood all over Tauriel's waist until he realized the blood had spread from her left side. The stain appeared brown against her green garments. “You’re hurt too.” Worry pinched his insides. “'Shouldn't have thrown you so hard.”

Her sight remained locked on the path ahead. “I was careless and you corrected my mistake. I'm fine.”

He shook his head in slow movements, dazed. “No..no you're hurt.” More black blooms in the corners of his vision. “Leave us Tauriel, we have to find Thorin. Thorin...”

Fili's pleading voice in his ear. “Kíli stay with us! Tauriel can heal you again, s-she-”

The orange sky and billows of smoke whirled around like fragmented pieces flung back from a mirror. A horrid kaleidoscope of nausea. Then darkness.

**xxx  
xx  
x**

He opened his eyes with a moment's effort, his lids stuck together as if he had slumbered for a long time. Confusion followed the first few seconds of consciousness. A chunk of memory had been lost to him. He had not dreamed. Kíli wondered where his mind had been, and he shivered at the thought of this complete lack of mental existence. Had he tasted the experience of death? Would the grave rob him of all thought and soul? Not trapped within the earth, not floating in black nor white, just total nothingness.

No matter. The ache in his body told him he was still very much alive and attached to this world. He felt like bent steel under a sword-smith’s hammer.

“Kíli! You're awake lad?”

With slow movements, Kíli turned his head and gazed at Balin, the old Dwarf's skin heavy with new wrinkles, and their burglar Bilbo who looked more dour than usual, his appearance half sad and half comical with his one black eye. A dark haired Elf healer ground up a plant in a small bowl. All three stared at him with concern, the crushed herb's odor stinging Kíli's eyes.

Panic gripped his heart before the full thought had sunk into his brain. He whipped his head around and saw Fili sprawled out on a similar table, deer hides piled beneath his back and torso. His light hair hung around his face in matted clumps, his eyes closed, but Kíli's regarded the steady rise and fall of his brother's chest. Relief washed over him.

He twisted back around and regarded his comrade's heavy faces. “Will..” Kíli cleared his throat but his voice remained hoarse and scratchy. “Will he live?”

Balin and Bilbo nodded but Kíli studied the healer's demeanor. He knew her opinion would be the most accurate. She nodded and tension fled from his shoulders.

Balin hands gripped each other in his lap, his knuckles pasty white. Anxiety curled around like constrictors in Kíli stomach. “Thorin however...” A tear slid down the chiseled lines of the eldest dwarf's face. “Thorin has passed.”

The Hobbit sniffled and covered his face with his hands.

Kíli blinked. Each word soaked through his skull one at a time. Thorin. Dead. Grief threatened to crush him, shove him back into that place of emptiness.

Kili shook his head, overpowered by the sudden wrench of invisible pain in his heart that added to the steady thrum of hurt in his body. Thorin slain by a rusty orc weapon? Never. Durin's heir had persevered through worse battles, struck down from honor only to reclaim it once more. He had led them throughout all manners of swamps and wild-lands since the beginning of Kíli and Fili's boyhood. No. His companions didn't know. His uncle would wake from a troubled sleep and restore the dwarf kingdom to a glory as bright as the Arkenstone. They would see.

But the mental image of Thorin, unrecognizable amid the buckets of crimson, stabbed at this shaky certainty. Despite his injuries, Kíli suppressed the urge to strike at something, anything, with his fists, or scream and scream until his voice dried up in his throat.

Balin scrutinized Kíli's expression. “We must handle what fate has dealt us, despite this tragedy.” He sighed. “We should count ourselves lucky, we thought we would loose you and Fili as well.”

_“Damn you, you must not die on me!”_

Kíli shot up from his position on the makeshift bed, his body protesting from the rapid movement. “TAURIEL!” How in Mahal's name had he forgotten? Her remembered her waist covered in blood. Dread seized him. He felt unsteady, ready to tip over the edge into hysteria.

He had passed out like a maiden before he had seen her safe! Before he knew his brother was safe! He had failed Thorin, and he had failed her. He had failed to protect anyone.

Multiple pairs of hands clutched at his shoulders. Voices hollered and pleaded with him to take it easy! He was going to reopen his wounds! The healer shouted at him in Sindarin. He disregarded all of them.

He hadn't realized he was shouting her name over and over. He had woken Fili and his brother was staring at him with a mixed look of confusion and terror.

Bilbo grabbed his hand. “Look! Look she's right there! Calm down! Please calm down!” The poor Halfling clutched handfuls of his own hair.

Indeed Tauriel stood in the center of the tent's entrance, her eyes wide and her mouth parted, her hair half braided in a beautiful tangled mess. Bandages covered her side. Several Elf men and women hovered behind her, their hands on her arms, trying to tug her back, uneasiness and shock on their faces, talking to her in whispers.

She tore herself from their grip and rushed to Kili's side. He grasped her upper body and pulled her down into his arms, his physical pain drowned out by relief and her warm skin in his hands. Alive. He leaned back on the table and dragged her with him, the uninjured side of his chest buried underneath her torso, her arms wrapped around his waist.

She buried her head in the crook of his neck, her tears soaking his skin. “I thought you dead!” Her voice cracked with unrestrained sobs. He had never seen her this upset, a far cry from the coy maiden he had conversed with that first night in the dungeons. “Don't ever do that again!” She shook her head and her hair tickled his cheek. “Never again!”

Kíli's hands shook as he clutched her back beneath the curtain of hair, still soft to the touch despite the random crusty strands hardened by blood. The scent of the forest lingered in her pores behind the layer of dirt. “I'll try not to,” he mumbled. “I'm sorry I caused you pain.”

He hugged her close to him as if afraid she would float away. “I'm glad you're alive.” He let out an unsteady breath. “You don't know how much, Tauriel.”

Bilbo and Balin shooed away the confused elves and the rest of the onlookers outside the tent, leaving Kili and Tauriel in relative privacy. The elf healer appeared perplexed for a moment, then crossed the room and attended to a shaken Fili.

Tauriel cried against Kíli's shoulder and he felt the first wave of moisture leak from his own eyes.

**xxx  
xx  
x**

Kíli's eyes snapped open. Sunlight. Morning wind and the happy chirps of birds wafted in from the carved window.

Kíli lay pressed up against Tauriel, his head nestled underneath her chin. She had fallen asleep in a simple evening dress, one arm carelessly thrown across Kíli's side. Her breasts rose and fell in an easy rhythm against his collarbone.

Reality and dreams mingled together, the bitterness of those forsaken memories leaving a dark cloud at the edges of his consciousness, like a nightmare unwilling to release him into daylight.

Erebor had received a new shipment of ale the previous night and the dinner crowd had celebrated by drinking it all at once. Fili and Kíli, and Dori and Nori had convinced Tauriel to taste it, which had led to fun drunkenness on everyone's part. The she-elf would not shy away from a challenge, especially when teased enough about it.

They were both covered by Kíli's heavy feather down blanket. He realized the stupidity of Tauriel spending the night in his chambers, but he found it hard to regret their long evening of slow, messy kisses. The potent ale in her system had loosened up her resolve and she had allowed Kíli's mouth to travel as low as the tops of her breasts, pushing them together and making him kiss the plush line of her cleavage. She had whispered commands and sweet nothings in his ears.

He had gotten a glimpse of how devilish she could be in the bedroom. He could only imagine. Who knew elves were passionate?

When their desire had reached it's peak he had yearned to bend her over and enter the sensitive skin between her legs; he still wanted her now in the innocent morning light. But he would not push her into any of these fantasies.

Strange how the ugly past still surfaced beneath the joys of the present. Kíli wondered if these unpleasant dreams were truly random or if they were a result of his troubled subconsciousness. Perhaps deep down he had not liberated himself from those memories. Every month, multiple times, he suffered through that same dream.

Tauriel's grip tightened on his back and he let her soft breathing lull him back into slumber. He dreamed only of her naked form dancing in a summer glen, the tall grass bathed in the sun's golden light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope everyone enjoyed this! There are hundreds of ways the Battle of the Five Armies could be written, & it is important obviously, so I'm hoping I didn't butcher it. That being said, I'm not super familiar with medieval warfare, lol. I hope I didn't overdo the violence but I imagine it would be a terrible situation. Ouchies.
> 
> Also, THANK YOU EVERY ONE OF YOU for your support! & if I may ask, would someone be willing to please comfort me when the third movie comes out, depending on the ending? I don't give a fuck like I will give you my facebook or whatever and I will try to soothe everyone else too so please message me in December lol! My mom told me 'how do you know how it will end if the movie isn't even out yet?' & I'm just like MOM U DON'T UNDERSTAND OK lol. This OTP is also a secret with me otherwise, & my bf will wonder wtf is wrong with me when I'm bawling in the theatre. Oh well.
> 
> If anyone has a Kiliel fic idea please write it! <3\. It will be fabulous and it will make me happy.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> xoxo DarkMignonette )o(
> 
>  
> 
>   
> **Translations**  
>   
>  (Khuzdul)  
> 'Khayum Thane!: Victory for the King.'  
> Sindarin  
> 'Gin Melin: I love you.'  
> (I know it's weird that Kíli spoke Elvish but it will be explained later, & also so his brother wouldn't understand him. Thanks for ya'lls patience lol.)


	5. Thicket

__

"Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.  
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites  
By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,  
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,  
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,  
And learn me how to lose a winning match." __

  


__

“Hate to disappoint you my lady, but I'm not a tree climbing type. I'm not one of the Elder Race. Just in case you forgot, you know.” 

__

A mischievous glint sparkled in Tauriel's eyes. Late afternoon sunlight gleamed through the net of leaves overhead and highlighted the flecks of gold in her irises. He prized the gold in her eyes above any of his personal treasure(not that he would confess that to any of his kin however). Tauriel hovered at least seven feet off the ground, straddling the lowest branch of an ancient maple tree and balancing herself with all the ease of a bobcat. Kíli himself possessed no such grace. If she thought a dwarf would haul his stocky weight onto some half dead branches then she had lost her mind. 

__

“What did I tell you...” she said, her eyebrows pinched together, a smirk on her face. “About such frivolous titles?” 

__

“My _âzyungâl_ , then.” 

__

Her smile turned into a full grin. She tossed a leg forward and swung her body around, dangling both slender calves in the air, swinging her bare feet. Kíli was struck with the sudden urge to kiss the top of her dainty hairless foot but thought better of it. He didn't know how an Elf would respond to the gesture. Kíli grinned. He couldn't exactly reach her either. 

__

“Darling, Captain Tauriel of Mirkwood. An Elf. A red-haired one. An elf who is the apple of my-” 

__

“Ok ok, enough please,” she laughed. “Continue with your sarcasm and I will throw something at you.” 

__

He crossed his arms over his chest, peering up at her in a feigned pout. “That's abit unfair, I should think.” 

__

She disregarded his comment, shaking her wild mane of hair free from her shoulders and onto her back. The wind murmured through the patch of trees, redolent of lakewater and hints of burnt wood. The star shaped maple leaves wavered in the breeze, the wind twisting ripples in Tauriel's loose hair, but her grip on the branch remained steady. “Actually, with your features...” she squinted at him. “You could pass for an elf in face, maybe.” 

__

He scowled. Nobody else would speak such slander to him unless they wished for confrontation. Tauriel had long ago discovered the crack in his self-esteem over his less than Durin-like features. Instead of Dwalin's strong nose, or Gloin's grizzly-bear-fur thick beard, he had been saddled with high cheekbones and less stubble than a young dwarf lad. Even Fili at least had a beard! Of course the she-elf meant no insult. He felt no injury at her words, even on that subject; a first in his life. 

__

He mock glared at her for her benefit. “Why do you insult me so? Are you ill with me?” 

__

“Of course not.” She giggled, a rare sound from her lips, and only for him. He loved it. “I mean...you are more handsome than your kinsmen. But also more...” Her cheeks colored pink beneath her layer of freckles. “Well...” 

__

Kíli's stomach tingled with butterflies. He smirked. “More...?” 

__

“More handsome than an elf too, I think.” 

__

Kíli's smile burst into a full grin. Tauriel's face turned a deeper shade of red. “Well thank you for noticing!” he said. 

__

She glowered down at him but her blush negated the effect. “Don't repeat that please.” 

__

“Aw, not even to Fili?” He sighed. “Fili gets everything. I would love to tell him how I won the beautiful Elf maiden! No beard but I still have the high opinion of an immortal lady.” 

__

“You flatter me, but please keep this between us.” Tauriel held the bridge of her nose between her fingers and exhaled a breath. “Climb up here so that I may quiet your pretty speech with kisses.” 

__

“It's more than pretty speech. It's truth.” 

__

Kíli studied the tiny rivers of lines in the bark, the pattern so alike that of a human fingerprint, then glanced at Tauriel's patient expression above him and the gap of empty air between her perch and the ground. Kíli liked his feet firmly planted on the earth. But then he liked the weight of her tender lips on his mouth even more. 

__

He sighed in defeat. “Give my brother my love and regards for me if I fall to my death.” 

__

Tauriel gave him a wry expression. “I'm about six off the ground, but I'll save you before you fall into such a chasm. You have my word, if it eases your fear.” 

__

Kíli smirked. “And you threatened me over my wee mockery.” 

__

When Tauriel had climbed, she had found the perfect notches on the trunk and scaled the tree as if she had known this exact maple for years. Kíli had marveled at her limber movements, how her bare feet hugged the rough bark. Of course she had been born in Mirkwood. All the Elves of that dim kingdom probably sang to the trees and climbed their branches into the heavens every day. She even regarded the occasional lifeless birch, choked with Mirkwood's breed of poisonous ivy, as beautiful. 

__

Kíli grabbed the closest branch and hauled himself upward, his boot wedged in the angle between the trunk and the shaky limb. He exhaled a short breath. He felt Tauriel's sharp gaze bore into the top of his head. He grasped the next tree limb and lugged his body weight higher, again, further into the crowd of green leaves. Twigs tore at his trousers. 

__

Without thinking he propped his full weight on his right leg and pain burst through his calf. A string of ugly Khuzdul curses escaped his mouth. 

__

Tauriel seized fistfuls of his tunic and heaved him up to safety, the limb beneath her as wide and thick as stone. 

__

“I am sorry,” she murmured. She steadied him against the base of the tree. “I shouldn't have asked you to push yourself. Your leg...” Her fingers still held a firm grip of his shirt. 

__

Her wilted expression tugged at his heartstrings. He shook his head. “No, not your fault. I forget about it sometimes. I can't let it keep me from doing what I want.” He smiled. “I'm fine. Thanks for saving my neck once again. 'With the chasm and all.” 

__

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards for a moment before falling back into a frown. 

__

Kíli slouched against the center of the tree, both feet sprawled before the gnarled branch. The sun descended behind the distant Ered Mithrin and saturated the foliage in deep emerald shadow. His leg pain diminished to a slight ache. Why the old injury still overran the nerves in his calf on occasion he didn't know. Maybe that vile arrow had poisoned his mind as well as his flesh. 

__

Tauriel stared down at the ground as if her thoughts had wandered from their conversation. Kíli studied the angles of her face, her downcast eyes embellished with thick eyelashes. He cleared his throat. “Who is the most fair in all the Eldar race?” 

__

“What?” 

__

Kíli smiled. “We Dwarves have famed beauties from the past. Really rare though, but they exist.” 

__

Tauriel's brow wrinkled. “I don't know. I've studied war more than beauty. Why do you ask?” 

__

“Curious I suppose.” 

__

She chewed a corner of her lip. “That's difficult to answer. I pay little attention to such whimsy. But as the old songs will tell you, Luthien was the most fair.” 

__

Kíli shrugged. “Your tales lie, Tauriel of Mirkwood shines above all else.” He grinned. He let the unfiltered words fall from his mouth. “'As fair as any star. I thought you were made of starlight, you know, the night you saved me from that morgul arrow.” 

__

She turned away with a suppressed smile. The tips of her ears had turned red. “I thank you _meleth nîn_. But you are being silly.” 

__

“'Tis the truth, as I've said.” He peered at the tips of his calloused fingertips without really seeing them. “I'm surprised you aren't tied to any of your comrades, with your grace and skill in battle. Had you been a dwarrowdam you would already have lines of suitors at your heels.” 

__

Tauriel shifted in her spot. Her blush had spread down into her cheeks. “I thank you for your kindness. I haven't thought much of attachments honestly. Not those kinds, anyway. We are not in peaceful times. And, well, I am young.” 

__

Kíli shrugged. “As am I, I guess. I still have plenty of battles to endanger myself in for honor, for the glory of Durin's line.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. He tossed a leaf in the air and watched it float to the ground. 

__

Tauriel turned her gaze towards the shy speck of sunlight in the distance. “My thoughts have always belonged to Mirkwood. I have never craved love over battle before.” 

__

His heart skipped a beat when she spoke the word 'before.' As in, 'before now?' Excitement thrummed under his skin. 

__

“I've found that love is most important of all,” Kíli whispered, staring down at his hands. “As soft-hearted as that sounds. You never know when someone will...pass away.” 

__

Tauriel grasped his hand. “No, it is truth.” Her fingertips cooled the skin of his palm. “We live in an injured world. The pain of the forest of my home tells me so every day, and there is darkness in all corners of Arda.” Her voice quieted with sorrow. “We may have our arrows and our blades but love is what we fight for.” 

__

Kíli sucked in a breath through his teeth. “You aren't summoned to return to Mirkwood for a while?” 

__

“No.” Her expression darkened. “Despite my loitering around Erebor. One of my soldiers is the temporary Guard Captain. He will defend the forest well enough.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “Thranduil is contented to keep me as far away from Legolas as possible.” 

__

An ugly feeling jabbed at Kíli's chest. “His father is foolish. Legolas should be honored to have your love.” 

__

His heart dripped with envy and he turned his head away. He feared his eyes would expose his rising level of jealousy. He very rarely hated another being, other than the goblins and creatures of darkness. He had not inherited his uncle's vast bitterness. Kíli did not hate Legolas, he just...did not want the blond elf prince near him or in his thoughts; or near Tauriel, but then, her happiness reigned above his emotion. A high born Elf warrior deserved her affection more than a Dwarf prince half her height, anyway. 

__

Tauriel chuckled. “He is not my love. Legolas is my friend. _Mellon_. We have grown up together so I love him, but not the way you mean. He is not _meleth nîn_.” 

__

The tension eased from Kíli's shoulders. He gazed at her in surprise. “Really? I had thought at least...” 

__

“Despite the impression of many others, Legolas and I are not lovers. We never have been.” 

__

Kíli grinned. “So I might still have a chance?” 

__

Tauriel freed her hand and gave him a slight push. “You already are.” She smiled. 

__

Kíli blinked. “Are what?” 

__

Tauriel's freckles contrasted with her pink blush. “My lover.” 

__

Her words incited a flurry of pleasant tingles in his stomach. “You...” His words tripped over each other on his tongue. “You consider me your lover?” 

__

Tauriel's body stiffened. Hesitation filled her eyes, the corners of her mouth twisting downwards as she stared at him. “You do not?” 

__

Kíli snapped out of his stupor. He captured her hand in both of his. “You have my love, always.” He kissed the pliant skin beneath her knuckles. “I only didn't know that you...I wanted to think that, but-” 

__

“Do not doubt your worth, you deserve more than I can give you.” Tauriel's eyes glittered in the purple shade of twilight. Kíli couldn't tell if their glassy sheen was due to tears or from Dale's evening fires beyond the lake. “But I do desire you,” she said. 

__

Kíli's heartbeat galloped in his chest. “I yearn for you as I have never yearned for anything else,” he said quickly, his mind still dazzled by her confession. “And I care nothing of gifts, I only want you and your pretty eyes, and your company. Before I had thought your love was just an unattainable dream.” He rested his back against the tree and pulled her close, his legs on either side of the branch and her knees between them. He sighed. “I'm not good at secrets.” 

__

Tauriel smiled and peered down at their entwined hands. “I would have known even if you kept your true thoughts silent. I have seen the way you look at me.” 

__

A sheepish smile crossed his lips. “Aye...Fili has noticed too.” 

__

She wrinkled her nose. “That may not be good. But I don't know your brother as you do. I have tried to keep my passions under control as well but I have not succeeded. I'm not surprised he suspects something.” 

__

“I will have to tell him eventually. But we have done nothing wrong yet.” He winked. “We hunt together, bring fresh game home to the kitchens and enjoy each others friendship. It's innocent enough.” 

__

She raised one curved brow. “Yes, very innocent.” She removed her hands from his grasp and turned her head away, unable to meet his gaze. “This lust is...difficult to deal with.” 

__

Kíli coughed out a nervous laugh. “Yeah...though you've done no such thing,” he said, “I feel like I've been bewitched with it.” Red faced, he peered at her kneeling form before him and trailed his eyes up her body, from the edges of her dress to the stretched fabric around her curved hips. Her corset hugged her chest and hints of pale flesh spilled over its hemline. 

__

Tension pooled in his lower body and he snapped his eyes back up to her face. He hadn't meant to gawk at her like a common lecher. 

__

If she had noticed his heavy stare she gave no sign of it. She chewed absentmindedly on the corner skin of her thumb. “It is odd for me to feel these emotions at my age. But then I have always been different.” 

__

Kíli's hands had begun to shake. “Aye, 'tis the same for me.” 

__

She squirmed in her spot. “Forgive me, I don't know how to go about these things, or what is the proper way to say them. I am a warrior, I have never been taught how to...” her voice trailed off. 

__

Kíli wrapped one long strand of her hair around his fingers. It reminded him of copper wire threaded with gold. “You can tell me whatever you want, and however you wish to say it. Or say nothing. You need not fear rejection from me.” He smiled. Her fine strands of hair felt like silk compared to his own thick, coarse locks. “Besides, you have forgiven all my clumsy attempts to court you.” 

__

She chuckled. “You have not been clumsy. You have done well. I think you have seduced me, my _Naugrim_ Prince.” She laughed again, but the intensity behind her eyes hinted at the sincerity of her words. 

__

“ _I_ have seduced _you_?” Her confession immersed Kíli's heart in a wave of happiness. He had felt contentment before, but he had never experienced a joy so weightless that the thought of stepping off the branch and waltzing into the clouds seemed possible. “You have enthralled me! With your expert archery and your sense of humor. And that red hair. How can a mere Dwarf resist those things?” 

__

She looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or blush. “You're doing it again.” 

__

“Ah.” His face split into a wicked grin. “Okay then, fair elven temptress, may I have your kisses now?” 

__

“Yes, before I grow a large head from all your flattery,” she teased. 

__

Tauriel eased closer to him and pressed a shy kiss to his lips. Kíli closed his eyes as she rested her hands at the nape of his neck, throwing her legs on each side of his hips, feet dipped in the air. The scent of maple leaves blended with her earthy perfumed skin. A brief thought flashed through Kíli's mind, wondering if a trace of the pure Greenwood the Great of old lingered in her sweat and pores. 

__

He nipped at her bottom lip and she opened her mouth and deepened the kiss, her hands gripping a knot of his dark hair. Pain throbbed through his scalp and he kissed her with a callous force in retaliation, her whimper of pleasure vibrating his lips. She let his tongue slip into her mouth. Kíli prayed that she wouldn't notice his trembling hands or rushing heartbeat. The evening darkness hid them in a tangled knot of limbs within the trees, the surrounding foliage a cocoon of shadow. 

__

A scorching need shot up through his abdomen when she pressed the space between her legs against his hips. He stifled a groan and wrapped an arm around her waist, crushing her against him, closing the tiny gap between their mid sections. His member throbbed with a nearly painful ache. 

__

He had never done that before. A crimson blush spread from his face to his ears. He broke the kiss. “T-tauriel, I'm sorry I-” 

__

She touched a finger to his lips. “Don't be,” she whispered, her voice deep and breathy. “I'm sure I've teased you senseless. Can I...” her face turned as red as her hair. “Can I ease your frustration?” 

__

He had gone completely hard now. He gulped. He had no idea what she meant. “Uh, i-f you want. But don't think that you have-” 

__

In a swift movement she unclasped his belt and dipped her hand into his trousers. Kíli froze. Her fingertips wrapped around his manhood, a light pressure that made that sensitive, previously untouched skin dance. “This isn't proper at all,” she whispered against the side of his face, breath tickling his ear. “But we have already broken the rules.” 

__

Kíli licked his lips but his mouth had gone dry. He nodded. 

__

He wondered if she had time or not to catch a fleeting look at his most intimate area before she pulled down the top of his pants and covered his shaft with her mouth. 

__

He gasped, eyes shut tight against the wave of pleasure that bombed his senses. _Oh_. Carnal enjoyment swamped any remnants of his nervousness, his body rigid, her slick lips working at the stiffened area between his legs. 

__

She dug her nails into the tender skin beneath his belly button when he pressed his hand down on top of her head. Maybe the gesture of his grip on her hair had been too dominant for her taste. Well, he liked it that way too. He watched her move up and down on him, the pressure coiled deep in his belly increasing with each flick of her tongue, and he forced himself not to buck his hips against her face, against each wet caress. The line of her cleavage shuddered with her every movement. 

__

Tauriel withdrew her lips from him and inhaled a breath. Her hand continued to stroke him, her palms slick with saliva. 

__

He smiled at her, the cloudy sheen in her eyes mirroring his own. His legs jerked with each twist of her hand. He shut his eyes again. “ _Gimlinh_...” he groaned. “This is...this feels..amazing.” 

__

She took him in deeper the second time, and each swipe of her lips loaded his body with more tension. The damp sounds of her lips on him echoed in the quiet stillness of early night, the drones of cicadas their only audience. 

__

He briefly wondered if this was real. If it was a dream, it was a lusty one and he would wake coated with sweat and wrapped in sticky sheets. It would not be his first fantasy involving the pretty Mirkwood Guard. 

__

His limbs trembled. He pictured the exposed skin of her lithe body, her firm thighs, her perky breasts... 

__

Pressure tightened between his legs. He had not pleasured himself in days and he knew all the coiled tension would explode from him in moments. “Tauriel! I'm-” 

__

He accidentally banged the back of his skull against the tree when he tossed his head back. Tauriel had not moved, his manhood still thrust behind her lips. He gripped the sides of the tree limb as his orgasm rolled through his body. “Oh _Mahal_ , Tauriel!” He released himself into her warm mouth. He groaned, loudly. He heard himself and blushed, hoping no one, mortal or otherwise, lurked anywhere near their hiding place. 

__

Kíli let out a ragged breath and melted against the tree. All energy had been drained from him. He gawked at Tauriel as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

__

He reached out and gently grasped her wrist. His nervousness had returned with a vengeance. “Did that just happen?” he grinned. 

__

Tauriel beamed at him. The she-elf appeared proud with herself over having reduced him to a horny embarrassed wreck. He didn't know if she enjoyed satisfying his urges or toying with his mind. “Yes.” 

__

Love flooded his brain; not over the oral pleasure, but love for the she-elf with an impish streak buried beneath her impassive nature. Her playful banter that first night in the Mirkwood dungeons had only given him a glimpse of it. 

__

An abashed smile strained his face, and he found himself unable to meet her gaze. He had never been so vulnerable in this life, and his cheeks still burned with embarrassment as he pulled his trousers up and secured his belt. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.” 

__

She laughed, and her strained tone eased some of his apprehension. “No need, I...enjoy these things. With you.” She stared down at her hands, her face half hidden by the curtain of hair over her shoulders. “But it is new to me.” 

__

Kíli ran a hand through his own messy locks. The back of his head throbbed from his own stupidity. “Will you sit with me?” he murmured. The air between them felt awkward and he wanted nothing more than to shield his face in her shroud of hair. Kíli had never considered himself bashful, but he had also never been ravished by an elf maiden's lips. 

__

Tauriel smiled and rose to her feet. She hovered over him patiently until he nudged himself forward across the branch. He staying in a sitting position of course, wanting nothing to do with any more balancing acts. 

__

She slid down against the tree trunk and sat behind him. Kíli settled his back against her torso, and she rested his head against the cushion of her breasts, each of her hands a gentle touch on the side his temples. 

__

He let out a deep sigh, relishing the moment of peace. 

__

“Hey,” he mumbled. “You really think I look like an Elf?” 

__

She trailed her hands through his crown of hair. “I meant no insult.” 

__

“No it's just that I saw an Elf man in Rivendell once and I mistook him for a maiden.” 

__

All the birds in the neighboring trees fled into the sky at the echo of Tauriel's laughter. 

__

__

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah from now on this will be more mature, which is what I originally planned from the beginning, I just wanted to build up to it ! I am going for more of a love story over erotica, but a tiny bit of it doesn't hurt anyone hehe. Hope you all still enjoyed. <3 I feel like this chapter is too sappy oops. I tried my best. & I edit this myself so if you catch any mistakes you can tell me and I will fix it(as I'm sure I will have to do anyway, I've had to go back several times on previous chapters.)
> 
> Thanks everyone for all your support!!! Ya'll have written some lovely work too! Yaaay! I am so ready for the third movie but...we still have a while to go...and I'm probably going to be so upset it's ridiculous lol! I hope we at least get a kiss scene. & we will always have fanfiction.
> 
> I saw a post on tumblr where someone asked Evangeline Lilly's official fb page if she was satisfied with Tauriel's ending, & she said yes very much so and it sets up the Fellowship very well. That could mean lots of things though. She can't give away too much, but. I kinda hope Tauriel and Kili die together, but I know that's selfish haha.
> 
> Ugh sorry this chapter title is lame.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> xoxo, DarkMignonette )o(
> 
> **Translations**
> 
> _(Khuzdul)_   
> _'âzyungâl : Lover.'_   
> _'gimlinh : Star-Lady.'_   
> _(Sindarin)_   
> _'mellon: Friend.'_   
> _'meleth nîn: My love.'_   
> _'Naugrim: Dwarf.'_


End file.
